


Little Moments

by displacedhobbit



Series: Prompt Fills and Drabbles [3]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Durin Family, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-15
Updated: 2014-11-09
Packaged: 2018-02-13 05:42:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2139162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/displacedhobbit/pseuds/displacedhobbit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short little drabble about Fíli and Kíli's family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I can't sleep, so have a little drabble. I liked it better in my head.

“You’ll get a crick in your spine if you sleep like that,” Dís murmurs, fond smile cracking the fatigue that had settled into her features.

It had been a _long_ day, full of household chores (who knew how much of a mess two little dwarflings could make in such a short time?) and a frustrating attempt at selling some of her wares at the market (why must _everyone_ insist on haggling with her over patching trousers?).  She’d picked the lads up from their lessons and came home to an empty house, dismayed to see that Víli had needed to stay late in the mines ( _again_ ).

But both of her boys were sweet, _sweet_ boys, and had very dutifully set the table, helped her make supper, _and_ cleaned it all up afterward (though they’d insisted they leave a plate for their father in the oven so it would stay warm). Fíli had even volunteered to herd his little brother into the bath, and they were fresh and clean by the time their father made it home. They’d put on a spectacular pair of pouty faces and all but pleaded with her to stay up a little later to sit with their Da. She’d nearly refused and shooed them off to bed ( _she_ was keen for some alone time with her husband as well), but Víli pulled his signature puppy-dog eyes (and Kíli was getting _far_ too good at those) and she’d relented, excusing herself to bed as her heart swelled with warmth at the love her family shared.

Hours later, she’d woken to find her husband’s side of the bed still empty and cold, the candle she’d left for him burned down low. She’d sighed as she hoisted her weary bones up, stopping first to check in on the boys. She retrieves the small candle. Fíli is sound asleep and snoring in his own bed, so she crossed the room and tucked his blankets tighter around his lithe body, bending to press a kiss to his forehead. With a small, frustrated huff, she notices that Kíli’s bed is empty (honestly, if Víli kept him up all night, _she_ would have to deal the unholy terror her youngest would surely be without enough sleep), she makes her way back to the sitting room, but the sight she found had warmed her heart and instantly melted away the tiredness she felt.

They’re perched in their old rocking chair, the one that had been Víli’s mother’s before it became theirs. Kíli is curled up in his father’s lap, hand loosely grasping one of the braids woven into his golden hair, fast asleep. Víli is cradling him close, and he flashes her a contented smile at her comment.

“Aye,” he agrees.  “Though I’d take a day of soreness for moments like this.” He regards his youngest son with a slightly awed expression, reaching his free hand up to card through the boy’s dark hair. “They’re growing up so fast.”

She hums in agreement, bending forward to offer him a kiss that he gratefully accepts.

Víli’s expression suddenly turns thoughtful. “I feel like I’m missing it all,” he admits. “There’s so much work to be done in the mines and I worry…one day I’ll come home to find them grown. And these moments…will just be gone.”

She rubs his shoulder comfortingly. “They’ve still got seventy years before they’re grown, love. The new mines will be completed in a few years, and after that you’ll not have to work so much.”

“Mm,” he hums as he hand drops down to stroke along Kíli’s back. Their voices have caused him to stir slightly, and Víli begins to hum an old lullaby, one that she’d taught him from Erebor, to soothe the lad back to sleep. “I hope you won’t hold it against me if I don’t make it to bed tonight,” he murmurs once he is assured Kíli has fallen back asleep, giving her a rather unapologetic smile as he adjusts his hold on the small dwarfling.

Dís retrieves a blanket from the settee and wraps it around the pair of them with a fond smile, before pressing kisses to both of their foreheads in reply. “Sleep well, my darlings.”


	2. in sickness and health

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a very belated birthday present to the fabulous daisykatherine, whom I love to the moon and back.

“Papa?” Kíli calls from the doorway; hair mussed with sleep, and the bear his Uncle Thorin had brought him upon his birth was tucked under his arm. “Is Fee still sick?”

Víli’s eldest son had fallen ill just over a week ago. A nasty sort of cold had been passing through the village, affecting dwarflings and human children in equal measure. He and Dís had tried their hardest to keep the sickness from the boys, but Fíli still managed to fall ill in a few days time. To make matters worse, Kíli had always been a sickly child (winter children always were, for a decade or so at least), so they’d all but quarantined their oldest, keeping the typically inseparable brothers as far apart as possible.

In a word, it had been miserable. Kíli had taken to pouting outside of the bedroom door, only sleeping when Víli or Dís hauled him into bed with them. Fíli had asked for his brother constantly, his fever muddling his thoughts so that he could not understand why he wasn’t allowed to see him.

Víli had grown up as an only child, and the closeness between his two sons occasionally seemed strange to him, but Dís had assured him that she had been just as inseparable from her brothers when they were children. Still, however odd it seemed, the bond between the boys always warmed his heart. In a world so full of darkness and despair, he was beyond grateful that his boys’ first instincts were to love.

Every night, just before they would try and get Kíli to go to sleep, the brunet dwarfling would venture to the door of the bedroom, asking if Fíli was well again. When he and Dís had to tell him that no, he could not see his brother just yet, Kíli would offer the bear to his older brother, explaining that it would help him sleep and feel better. And it had, truly. Fíli would smile every time the bear was pressed into his arms, and each morning when he was feeling a bit better, he would insist that the bear go back to Kíli for the day, along with his thanks.

But today, Fíli’s fever had _finally_ subsided, and, though he was still rather tired and sleepy, he and Dís were confident that he was past the worst of it, and that they no longer needed to isolate him.

“I think he’s feeling quite a bit better,” he replies, gesturing for the lad to come in.

“Really?” Kíli asks, still hovering at the door, uncertainty reading clearly in his expression.

Dís appears behind the lad and rubs a comforting hand along his shoulders. “Really, my darling. He’s missed you.”

As if on cue, Fíli raises a tired head and murmurs, “Kee?” and that’s all the invitation Kíli needs. He rushes toward the bed in a mix of relief and excitement, and Víli has to help him as he clambers up onto the bed. Dís follows behind their youngest, moving behind the chair Víli sits in and squeezing his shoulder lightly as they watch the reunion in front of them.

Kíli immediately wraps his arms around his brother and curls up against his chest, and Fíli hugs his baby brother tight as he laughs through a ragged cough. “Missed you too,” he murmurs fondly.

With a contented smile, Víli reaches for the blanket and tucks it in around the lads, pressing a kiss to both of their foreheads before sending them off to sleep for the night.

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t write enough of Fíli and Kíli’s father and this popped into my head so I wanted to share it with you, my lovelies. Sorry it’s not super great; I hope you like it anyway!


End file.
